


return from civility

by n7punk



Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [21]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alien Biology, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Healing, Not explicit but also not non-explicit, Post-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk
Summary: In the Horde, Catra learned quickly that she was different. Not in the way that Adora was different, not in aspecialway, but more of in a “control your animal instincts and aberrations” way. She spent years building careful control over herself, her purr, her tail and her claws. Then she arrives in Bright Moon and suddenly being different is not so dangerous anymore.(AKA Catra learning to let go and let her cat tendencies show).
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793227
Comments: 20
Kudos: 646





	return from civility

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to the first work in this miniseries [“sense-memory”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919464) but you don't need to read that to understand this. I mentioned in the notes for that fic I might do a second chapter, but this got so different and out of hand it made more sense to do it as its own fic.  
> Title is a reference to “seven” by Taylor Swift: “Before I learned civility/I used to scream ferociously/Any time I wanted”

It starts the moment Adora comes back for her, really. Her long-gone purr, only surfacing once or twice in the last three years, suddenly returns full force. She purrs when Adora holds her despite the terrible aching and exhaustion running through her body. She purrs when she crawls into the infuriating warrior’s lap intending to antagonize her, and when Adora strokes her hair one night as they fall asleep. After so long having such careful control over her voice, Catra realizes she never had true control at all. All along, Adora had been able to bring the traitorous sign of contentment out of her.

But Catra is trying to be more open, more honest. She is trying to be better. She decided when she promised Adora that she would _try_ that it meant no more compartmentalizing herself down into tiny boxes, only to be brought out when that part of her was necessary. The side effect of all that _letting go_ is that her purr returns.

Catra was always worried by her purr – sometimes even afraid of it. Afraid it would surface at the exact wrong moment and make Adora realize Catra’s true feelings for her. Afraid she would not be able to hold it down in front of Shadow Weaver and the woman would have one more piece of knowledge about how to manipulate her based on the involuntary action. Her purr was a risk to Catra her entire life, until she was free of Shadow Weaver, without Adora, and suddenly her purr did not come anymore anyway. Not outside of the occasional slip or as an involuntary response to some _alone time_. She could count on one hand the purrs without such prompting since Adora left her.

None of the things she used to be afraid of are dangers anymore. It is safe for her to purr, rumbling with contentment as she fits herself beneath Adora’s arm on the walk back to Bright Moon. It is safe for her to release a sound of delight as she tastes a new treat at the royal dining table. It is even safe for her to purr in amusement as she watches Sea Hawk trip and somersault end-over-end – he does not even take it personally. He seems aware of how funny it was. Mermista laughed, too. Adora was too nice to, but her eyes shone with contained mirth and Catra heard a snort slip forth.

Catra makes an _effort_ to let her control go, starting on that ancient alien ship, hurtling back towards an unknown situation on Etheria. She realizes it is _safe_ to let her control go as Adora pulls her into their second kiss, Adora’s friends – _their_ friends – laughing and cheering around them in celebration. She realizes that not only does Adora want her to let go, but that _she_ wants that, too, when she manages to apologize to Scorpia and the woman only asks of her that they have a real friendship this time. One where they let each other in. Catra realizes that is what she wants too. That it is what she always wanted, but never thought she could have – never thought she could risk having, never thought that she _would_.

That is the moment where she realizes it is not only her purr returning after long years of absence – it is _herself_.

\--

The Horde had exactly three shower products: scale cleanser, body wash, and fur conditioner. All were meant to be all-purpose, for use on one’s face, body, scalp, _everything_. Catra used the fur conditioner when she dragged herself into one of the stinging, burning showers. It always left her itching and uncomfortable for hours afterwards.

Adora takes a shower after breakfast on their first day together in Bright Moon. Catra curls up in the pillow nest she had made for Melog to sleep in until they could get their own bed – or better yet, until she could guilt trip Adora into letting them all share one of those huge, poofy beds like she had seen in Bow’s room when they went to raid pillows from him. Catra is half-draped over, half-pinned beneath Melog, idly scratching their ears and feeling as their resulting calm and contentment washes through her. She feels maybe, perhaps, _blissed out_ , like the hazy contentment of an afterglow has settled in her bones, despite the fact all she and Adora had done that morning was kiss. Well, okay, maybe Adora’s hands had drifted to the sensitive spot at the base of her tail that _she knows the effects of_ and had consequently resulted in Catra losing her mind, but-

The point is there was no sex and no actual afterglow, just the contentment of her body resting, safe and alive, as Adora’s idle humming echoes through the wall. Catra is purring, and Melog is too, but she is not sure which of them started it. They lay like that for a while - a long while, actually. If Catra could not _hear_ Adora in the shower, letting out a soft groan when the water hits a sore spot or humming softly as she washes her hair, Catra would _worry_.

When Adora finally emerges from the shower, Catra does not blame her for taking so long. Her transformation to and back from She-ra seems to have left her healed and clean, but there had been a lot of running around left to do before the day had ended. They still had to make it back to Bright Moon, even. Adora had dirt and worries to wash away in a long overdue shower.

“You have to try it. It is one of the things I always wanted to show you about life in Bright Moon,” Adora tells her when she finally emerges, beaming down at Catra in a fluffy robe. Her towel-dried hair is still damp where it falls in disarray around her shoulders. Her skin is flushed from the warmth of the water, her smile wide and relaxed from contentment. Her skin _glistens_ slightly from the still-drying water, as if shined with sweat.

She looks like she just had the best marathon sex of her life and Catra cannot find the words to tell her _literally anything but that_.

Melog thrums with a buzzing energy and disentangles themselves from Catra, not wanting to be involved. They leave to investigate the nearby rooms – Glimmer’s and Bow’s, she thinks. Catra is still struggling to think about _anything_ but her own rising flush. Adora looks between her and the softly shutting door in confusion, and then realization dawns on her face and she _scrambles_.

“I didn’t mean together! Or, I mean, we’re being honest now, yeah? I _have_ thought about that, but that was _before_ when it was just wistful thinking and not potentially new-relationship-ruining? I just know you hated the Fright Zone showers, but the ones in Bright Moon are so different and relaxing! And we have actual bath products!” Adora goes rambling. For once, Catra is grateful. It gives her time to look _away_ from Adora and compose herself, despite Adora’s best attempts to take her apart with her _words_ now.

She must manage to respond with something vaguely affirmative, because Adora’s wide smile comes back and she leads her to the bathroom, showing her how to work the shower and what all the different bottles and jars are for.

Adora is right. Bright Moon showers are _way_ better than the Fright Zone’s. The water is warm, not stinging or freezing, and distributed evenly in a wonderful spray rather than the tight nozzles back in the Horde. She has plenty of time to dry afterwards, fur fluffed from the soft towels. The different products – all geared towards Adora, truthfully, but still pleasant – do not leave her itching and uncomfortable afterwards. In fact, she quickly finds her fur is softer than before.

Glimmer still insists the products are not _right_ when she notices how fast Catra and Adora go through haircare products. Glimmer formally assigns her to find products specifically designed for fur. It seems unnecessary to Catra, especially given how much better her fur has felt since she changed to what Adora has. If Glimmer had not specifically ordered her to, Catra would have left things as they lay, but an order from the queen is an open invitation. When she reached out to the castle suppliers, she was surprised by the plethora of options available to her. She ends up with almost as many products as Adora, and Adora looks oddly _proud_ as she carries them into the bathroom.

“What?” she snaps, tail swishing nervously. There is no real heat behind the question despite the bluntness. She is working on being softer, but all her hard edges cannot be removed – some must merely be dulled. Adora does not seem to mind - if she did, she would have left Catra back when they were _cadets_.

“Just you, embracing princess shit,” Adora explains, shrugging. Her smile is a touch smug, knowing the reaction her words will get from Catra. Catra glares at her for pointing it out, but she returns to arranging the bottles and jars.

Within two weeks, her fur is by far the softest it has ever been, silky beneath the touch. They have always been affectionate, but Adora blatantly struggles to keep her hands off her. Catra will endure all the _princess shit_ in the world if it means she gets to luxuriate in the feeling of Adora’s hands more often. She might even thank Sparkles.

\--

Catra is having a good day. A fine day. She woke up just a few moments after Melog – maybe that is what woke her, actually – and before Adora. A rarity she luxuriated in, observing her lover and cuddling into her sleep-lax embrace. Breakfast had been fine, as well. Even the subsequent afternoon meeting goes well - until it doesn't.

“What are we going to do with Shadow Weaver’s garden?” Scorpia asks, raising a hand. Such a tiny detail, so easily overlooked until now-

Catra hears the name and digs her claws into the surface directly in front of her. One hand is rested on the table before her, scratching gouges immediately. She is leaning on her other arm, lazing in her seat, and so her claws there flex uselessly in the air, nearly slicing into her palm. Everyone within hearing distance glances to her at the small, but still horrid, screech of her claws digging into the tabletop. Catra winces, ears and tail dropping as she looks away, down, anywhere but at the no doubt judgmental stares.

Adora places her hand lightly over Catra’s on the table. A comforting gesture, and one that hides the scratches from sight, too. Catra is grateful. A familiar fear raises its ugly head, her fur bristling waiting for the answering tingle of magic to her insolence, her failure to control herself. It is not there - never will be again - but her body still prepares for it.

“Catra? What do you think?” Glimmer prompts. Catra feels like she is falling in a hole, the earth swallowing her. She looks up, making eye contact with Glimmer, and is shocked to find the ground is actually beneath her feet after all.

Glimmer is looking at her not with annoyance or anger but with understanding, curiosity, _pride_. She is not even glancing down at the table. She is waiting for Catra’s opinion on a topic she clearly has feelings about. Truthfully, it is just the first time Catra has heard _her_ name spoken aloud since the events of the Heart have sunk in – the consequences.

Catra scoffs, turning her head away, but her claws retract and her fur relaxes. The wave of relief washing over her skin is new. “We don’t know what in there is dangerous, or normal, or magic. I say burn it. If not – have a herbologist look at it and take it apart carefully. There might be traps,” Catra says. She adds the final note as an afterthought, but then thinks on it more. “There are definitely traps. She would have known if we damaged the place it was because we were mad at her or under attack. She would definitely leave something to spite the destroyers either way,” Catra considers. She does not _know_ it is true – but she knew Shadow Weaver well, and she is certain she is right.

“Okay, so a herbologist _and_ a sorcerer or two,” Glimmer translates, already turning to make a note. Catra feels the last of her tension seep away as the meeting continues on.

No one mentions the claw marks. After the meeting, Glimmer comes over to her and, without greeting, sweeps her hand over the spot. A glyph appears, glowing pink before it fades and the table reappears below it, unmarred. Catra _gapes_. Glimmer smirks.

“New spell my dad is teaching me. Don’t worry about it, alright? Just as long as it is an object and not, like, Adora,” Glimmer tells her, smile somehow both reassuring and _infuriatingly_ smug.

“If it’s me I can take care of that myself!” Adora helpfully supplies from Catra’s side. Catra turns to look at the idiot beside her, feeling stupidly fond and stupidly loved, not even by _just_ Adora.

She has to stop that line of sentimental, mushy thinking. “That is not what you did last night, princess,” Catra responds. The shade Adora turns is almost as good as the exasperated groan from Glimmer.

"Can you two go five minutes, please?"

\--

Catra’s tail is _useful_ , it always has been. As a cadet, she used to work it out just like any other part of her body. Not as much attention was paid to it by their trainers, but that was because they did not understand its usefulness. Catra has known from the first time she used it to wipe tears from a young Adora’s eyes and the other girl smiled at her with gratitude.

Catra _likes_ her tail, despite years of trying to still it from giving away her raging emotions. She is past that, now – or trying to be. She backslides, sometimes, but for the most part – past that. It helps, she finds, when she feels a storm of emotions inside her to let her tail lash in anxiety. Like the way Adora fidgets, or digs her blunt nails into her palms.

Catra's tail sways lazily in contentment as she sprawls across Adora’s lap, laying on top of the scroll she was trying to read. Adora glares down at her. “This is the only surviving copy of this scroll. Lance and George gave it to me to translate,” Adora prods. Catra considers it, tilting her head thoughtfully. She feels bad, a bit. She would actually feel bad if she had damaged the scroll, but she had been artfully careful in her lazy sprawl. The scroll is perhaps creased, but otherwise intact beneath her.

Her tail had stilled while she was thinking. It curls in amusement at the same time as her lips quirk up, a decision forming in her mind. She sits up, turning back to accept the thankful look Adora sends her as she turns her eyes back down to the scroll.

Catra fixes her gaze on Adora’s face and bats the scroll out of her lap with her tail. It goes skittering, unfurling and bumping against the leg of another sofa in the small library nook. Adora watches the scroll go with a sigh of resignation and turns to look at Catra. She is trying to look annoyed, but the corner of her mouth is quirked up. Her body reads _amusement_ and her air is _fond_.

“You could have, I don’t know, _asked_ for attention,” she scolds, raising an eyebrow. Her brows are drawn in her attempt at sternness. Her eyes are still shining. Happy, _in love_ , because why else would you be smiling when somebody comes over and flings away the object of your current focus.

“Where’s the fun in that, princess? If it doesn’t get you going, what’s the point?” Catra asks, flinging herself back to sprawl across Adora’s lap again. She smirks up at her girlfriend.

“Spending time together? Being nice to your fellow man?” Adora tries, using one hand to list off points and dropping the other to stroke the length of Catra’s tail. Catra starts to stomp down on the thrill that shoots through her spine at the touch, but then she remembers: she does not have to, not anymore.

“I’m never nice, don’t go those spouting lies about me. Someone might believe you,” Catra counters, trying to keep up the banter as happiness bubbles up in her chest. It feels like it is taking her breath away, but it is not choking, suffocating – it is lightheaded happiness, gasping for breath after laughing too long.

“No, you are right, you’re mean. You took my work away - which I do need to get back to at some point, by the way-“ Adora cuts off her no doubt _long_ speech about all the mean things Catra has done lately – she can name ten since breakfast – despite how amused she truly sounds. She stops short to stare down at where Catra is slowly twining her tail between the fingers of the hand that had been wildly gesturing. She is _blushing_ , vibrant and wide-eyed as she stares.

“Adora. We have had sex,” Catra reminds her, amused by this mere contact freezing her. She quirks a brow as Adora startles to finally tear her eyes from Catra’s tail. She meets her eyes, face darkening further, somehow.

“We- we have had sex. Before. Multiple times. Um-“ Adora’s brain is not going to recover from whatever crash Catra has just sent her through. Catra laughs, throwing her head back a little in her amusement over Adora’s stammering. She meets Adora’s eyes again – or at least tries to. Adora is staring at Catra’s tail again, now firmly gripping it between her fingers.

Catra slips her tail from Adora’s grip, watching Adora’s eyes go wide as she does so. She is almost certain she sees disappointment in her girlfriend’s gaze. Lightly, without much real pressure, she smacks Adora in the face with the end of her tail. Adora startles only slightly, the light seeming to come back to her eyes as her brain finally turns on again. She turns to look down at Catra.

“You used to do that, before. I, um – I missed it,” Adora explains, blush returned with a vengeance. Her fingers flex uselessly in the empty air.

Catra blinks up at her girlfriend, feeling her own cheeks heat. “Did you know what it meant, before?” she asks, voice quiet. As she speaks, she lets her tail sway back into Adora’s hand. Adora looks down at her hand again as if mesmerized. She splays her fingers out, an open invitation, and Catra weaves her tail between her fingers like before.

Memories are playing out in the back of Catra’s mind. Dozens of times she did this with Adora on their platform, or in their bunk after-hours – never in the open light of day. Even this much was too far for that. No, in the locker room or the hall Catra would offer a brush of contact, weakly wrapping her tail around her wrist as she passed at best.

“It meant you wanted to reach out, didn’t it? That you wanted more?” Adora asks, voice stupidly hopeful. Her breathing is a bit uneven, catching oddly as her fingers spasm around Catra’s tail. Catra purrs – because she does that, now – and Adora _smiles_ , the light even reaching her awestruck eyes. She still seems unable to look away.

“It meant I wanted to kiss you, usually. But sometimes, yeah, it was just – more,” Catra clarifies.

Adora had not known at the time – might not have even realized until Catra asked, actually – but she knows _now_. Adora finally is able to look away from her hand, turning to look at Catra with open _love_. Catra leans up to meet her as the same time as she leans down.

She never does return to the scroll that night.

\--

Catra does not often knead anymore. It was habit from when she was kitten, rarely brought out since she had grown up. Today it is triggered by a pile of _paper_ , of all things. Catra lays sprawled out on their bed, tail twitching with barely contained irritation, as Adora hunches over her desk.

Logic reminds her that Adora spent all day in Alliance meetings today. She has not gotten to take a _break_ since they left their room for breakfast. Her jealous heart tells her Adora has not touched her since they held hands on the way to dinner, and now she is ignoring her for a pile of star charts that don’t even have a _purpose_. Catra is happy Adora has a hobby other than hitting things now, but her dumb cartography stuff has bitten into their free time together more than once.

She likes that Adora was able to take the mapping skills she had learned to plan battles and turn it into an interest in cartography and star charts outside of the war. It sounds almost _healing_ when she thinks of it like that, a way to repurpose a tool used for war into something good. That is what Catra is _trying_ to do with herself. It is harder some days than others. So she lays, sprawled out on their bed, tail twitching as she tracks Adora’s hands moving over her papers. Adora is largely turned away from her. She did not even notice when Catra changed for bed.

She did not even notice when Catra sprawled out topless on the sheets and sent Melog away to explore some far reaches of the castle. Catra tries to keep her tail from outright _lashing_ and buries her face into the pillows. This is _stupid_. They have been together _all day_. It is not like they exactly keep their hands to _themselves_ during Alliance meetings. Adora had been petting her tail, holding her hand, or just resting her palm on her knee for most of the day. And Catra had been fine with that attention. She just – wants more.

Without raising her head, she feels around on the bed for one of the stupid little throw pillows that are quickly dwindling in number. She manages to find one and begins to knead her claws into it, closing her eyes and shoving her face deeper into the darkness of the covers. She lets the action soothe whatever primal part of her brain her jealousy for a pile of _paper_ is stemming from, too.

“Um, Catra?” Adora sounds _concerned_. Catra ignores the way all her nerve endings sing at finally being Adora’s focus. Slowly, as if it will hide the purr already rumbling through her chest, Catra raises her head.

Adora _looks_ concerned. She is halfway to the bed, a hand reached out, her gaze focused on Catra’s hands.

Catra sits up and looks down. The pillow is shredded beneath her claws, the tearing of fabric having pulled Adora away from her work. Catra feels her cheeks heat, head hanging a little in shame.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. Stupid jealousy, stupid biological instincts, stupid _Adora_ -

“Are you okay?” Adora asks, apparently deeming it safe to approach and resuming her walk towards the bed. She hovers near the edge, unsure if she should wait or reach out. Catra eyes Adora’s expression, seeing the way her face is a little flushed now as she keeps her gaze focused steadfastly on Catra’s eyes, her line of sight not daring to stray downwards.

“I’m just a little _worked up_ right now,” she drawls, sheathing her claws.

Adora’s flush deepens, and she settles onto the bed beside her with a smile.

\--

Catra gets mouthy during sex, biting down on whatever part of Adora is closest and not overly-sensitive. Adora's neck and shoulders are often decorated with pinprick bruises. It is a stark contrast to the round bruises that caused a young Adora to wince as Catra teethed at her arm. Now, Adora unabashedly throws her head back to offer Catra her neck as she grinds down into her touch, moaning when Catra bites down.

Adora takes to makeup for the exclusive utility of concealer. She only bothers with it on days when they have meetings, or visitors, or when she has to venture beyond the castle walls. Sometimes she just favours her high-necked shirts, which are thankfully large in number. The castle’s permanent residents become familiar with the sight of Adora’s bruises regardless. No one ever mentions anything to either of them outside of Glimmer occasionally eyeing Catra knowingly after catching sight of Adora’s neck or pointedly reminding Adora to dress _appropriate_ for an upcoming activity. Adora usually _smirks_ in response and sends Catra a smug look that somehow turns the whole thing around on her and has her flushing, ears tucking back against her head in embarrassment.

\--

They are tucked into each other on an outdoor loveseat when Adora finally asks. Melog is investigating the nearby hedges in the castle gardens – from their excitement level, Catra believes there may be a den hidden beneath the branches, but she is not bothered enough by it to actually ask them. Instead she nuzzles into Adora’s neck, blatantly dragging her cheek across the skin there despite the fact they are in public during open daylight. No one is immediately around them to see, but they _could_.

“Can I ask you a question about the marking thing?” Adora asks her, squeezing her arms a bit tighter around Catra. It could be in comfort, or to keep her from running away from a topic she is notoriously dodgy on, although she has been letting that go the last few weeks.

“Yes, it was because I liked you, idiot. I also marked our bunk,” Catra answers, rolling her eyes and nudging in closer.

“No, I figured that out. Why am I not supposed to mention it?” Adora asks, apparently deeming Catra a low enough flight risk to chance raising her hand to stroke it through her hair. Catra purrs at the touch, at her scent clinging to Adora’s skin, at Adora’s pulse racing beneath her.

“At first? I was genuinely afraid of Shadow Weaver finding out. After that? I was afraid you would tell me to stop. I was ashamed, too, of giving in to my _base instincts_ ,” Catra explains. She cannot hide the disdain in her voice as she echoes the phrase. Adora tenses beneath her, stilling as she absorbs that information. Catra should make eye contact, but she does not want to extricate herself from Adora’s grip. In compromise, she raises her tail to sweep it over the arm around her back, hoping it is comforting enough.

“Is that something Shadow Weaver said?” Adora asks, her voice tinged with a hint of bitter darkness. It has been long enough – they can mention her, even if they still struggle to make it through a real conversation about her without crying.

Catra just nods into Adora’s neck. Adora lets out a slow, controlled breath. The kind she only has to release when she is seething. Her hand in Catra's hair is fisted, now, but she is carefully not pulling at Catra's sensitive scalp. Catra just waits. She knows Adora is not mad at her – she knows Adora is likely even now flashing through memories. Her purr has silenced, but she is still content to wait in her girlfriend’s arms for her to be okay again.

“Catra, every one of your unique 'instincts' is what makes you _you_. The girl I fell in love with. I’ve fallen in love with your fur, and your claws, and your purr because they are _yours_. You are not controlled by some inferior instincts. We’re all different – that was kind of a founding principle behind the Princess Alliance. None of us fit in, so we fit together. You don’t have to hide who you are or what you do. I am not going to judge you for it, and neither is anyone else here. And if they do, I’ll kick their ass.”

Adora takes a deep breath after her impassioned speech. She is practically crushing Catra against her with the force of her embrace now, but Catra has never felt so comforted by such extreme contact. She is struggling to breathe, true, but that is entirely based on Adora’s words.

“Okay,” she breathes in response. It is the best she can manage. Melog is by her side now, resting their head on the bench next to Adora’s lap. Catra absently reaches out and strokes their head to calm her racing heart. “I love you,” she finally manages to reply, because just _thank you_ does not seem enough. Adora drops a light kiss into her hair, grip slowly relaxing now she has gotten her heartfelt sentiment out.

“I love you, too. Every part of you,” she promises.

\--

It starts the way most good things in her life do: with Adora. Catra’s careful control comes crashing down when she lets herself have Adora in her life again, and even more so after they finally voice their feelings for each other, no more deadly secrets hidden behind unbidden purrs.

It starts with Adora, but that is only the beginning. She goes from gentle rumbles at Adora’s touch to kneading Bow’s shoulder as he loses spectacularly during their game night. She coils her tail around Adora’s wrist in unspoken comfort, and later she wraps it around Scorpia’s arm as they hug for the first time with their grievances aired between them. She carefully traces her claws down Adora’s sides as she gasps in pleasure, and then she goes running down the halls on all fours, claws scratching the smooth stone floor as her cackle rings out and Sparkles' annoyed voice calls out after her to come back to face the consequences of her prank.

Adora has always had a way through her barriers, but in the castle of Bright Moon, Catra finds herself purposefully taking them down, letting her be herself with everyone around her for the first time ever. Slowly, Catra raises herself from the pit she has dug herself into to survive, and she begins _living_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this was just Catra Being Soft & Implied Sex the fic but I really enjoyed doing it. This was supposed to be Catra finally letting all her tendencies show and then it just kept getting kind of horny??  
> I wrote like three different scenes for the kneading portion because I liked all my ideas for it and it was really hard to chose just one but I might spin one out into its own fic. We'll see.  
> Some other fics in my canon ficverse this references: [Noelle's fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280306), [Catra and Scorpia reconciling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25883779), and [Catra and Adora's first morning kissing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927607).  
> I also finally got in all my showering headcannons between these two fics! I started to write a shower fic a few weeks after the finale (after I took a really shit shower lmao) but it just was not enough for its own fic and not very good, so I'm glad I finally got that headcannon out there.


End file.
